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Daily Archives: April 22, 2010

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… I was discharged around noon on Saturday and I specifically remember feeling very annoyed and just out of sorts. I wasn’t necessarily happy to be home; I wanted to get right back to my normal life. But I didn’t feel right. The first night was fine in terms of Isaac. I got up a lot but I don’t really remember feeling tired. Sunday, my mom decided that they were going to go home, even though they’d planned to stay until Tuesday. I think my dad was stressed about something and that made my mom freak out and begin her Chinese water torture ways of picking at every little thing and that made me annoyed by it, etc… It was a relief when they were gone but by 5 PM, the true hardship of suddenly having TWO CHILDREN came crashing down upon us. Dinner plans were interrupted and Elliot acted up and I suddenly began having chills and felt awful. The chills progressed and my fever spiked; I ached. I called doctors for help but all I got was shuffled from recording to on-call nurse who told me to take Tylenol. Gee, thanks! That’s why you make the big bucks, eh? SO…

Chills the entire night; I kid you not. Since Ash was home with me Monday, he got Elliot off to daycare and I admitted that I needed to be seen. My doctor’s office had no actual doctors IN the office so they sent me to triage… where I waited an hour. And just as I was feeling like death warmed over, we actually saw one of my friends. UGH. But she was also in for a bad thing; hadn’t felt her 20 week twin boys move in a few days and was leaking some kind of fluid. So just as I thought my life was total shit, I realized that it can always be worse. Luckily, she was just fine. For me, however, I spent about 6 hours in triage with an iv and antibiotics. I had a temp of 102.8!

Let me tell you: taking care of a newborn and being sick is the ultimate suck. I didn’t care about anything. My brain produced horrifying dreams. My body buzzed in weird ways and convulsed with the chills so bad I couldn’t stay still if I tried. Luckily, all that seems to have passed now. I had a follow-up appointment today with the same doc I saw Monday and she listened to my lungs; thinks I could have been headed down the road to pneumonia but the antibiotics should be warding all that off now.

The first week of Isaac’s life has been very difficult for me and I feel terrible that I was not able to give him the attention he really deserved. I can move forward now and really enjoy this maternity leave and my new son.

The famed Braxton-Hicks didn’t really visit my uterus the first time I was pregnant. However, during this one, I experienced a lot of the practice contractions. Maybe around week 30 or so they would come and go throughout the day then I would go a few more days without any. However, starting on Monday April 5th, I started having them multiple times an hour for 8-10 hours a day. This concerned me but I knew I wouldn’t just go into labor so soon. A part of me may have suspected it though, since Elliot came soon after 37 weeks. I felt like I was on alert for so many days and nights and I imposed this upon the people who were waiting for me to have this baby. Mostly my mom and those who may have to watch Elliot should I be rushing to the hospital at 2 AM. It felt like a kind of torture, as I wrote in previous posts; like I was being mentally tested because once I passed the 37 week mark, I started to feel as if I were entitled to go early and dammit, I don’ wanna carry this kid to 40 week: whine! The next Friday, the ninth, I was having contractions that were coming 3 minutes apart so I told Ash we needed to head to triage. Indeed, I was having contrax and was dilated 3 centimeters. But my body was not ready to give birth. The awful triage nurse had me walk for an hour but when nothing down there changed at all, I was sent home. And it was heartbreaking. Because when you’re ready to be done, you’re oh-SO ready and the rejection – from both the birthing experts and your own body – is painful and pitiful. The thing is, I had my mom come up this weekend because I was pretty sure that something would have changed. Alas, nothing happened until the wee hours of Thursday morning, the 15th. I had been having contractions all night long but none so rough I could not sleep. I woke, got the boy ready but decided I shouldn’t go to work because it was difficult to walk and these contractions felt more “real”. They were lower down, radiating into my back. I took Ell to to daycare and went into my office to secure some final things. I knew this was the real deal.

By 8:30, Ash was home and we were on our way back to the hospital. I felt alright but they were certainly coming faster now. By the time I got into a room in triage and hooked onto the monitor, the contractions were only about 2 minutes apart and I was 5 centimeters. I was in pain by then and Ash was doing the best job of calming me, keeping me level. I found myself, at one point, losing my control and confidence. Luckily, I regained it, found a focal point and managed not to trn inward but to listen to Ash’s encouragement. I kept working through them. The best position was standing next to the bed and laying my arms down on it, swaying my hips. I would like to thank the girl who taught my prenatal yoga class for not making me feel so stupid about doing the “hippy dance” because that worked like a charm.

I told the nurse who was helping me that I was feeling the need to push and when she rechecked, she found that my bag o’ waters was bulging, hence that irritating feeling. Of course, they told me I certainly couldn’t push yet since I wasn’t in L&D yet. All in all they worked really quickly to get me in that room, I must admit. So I got into that room and all the other nurses came in to get me situated. I had begun to sweat really bad for some reason so some people were swabbing me with cold cloths while others asked if I wanted medicine. Last labor, the pain med made me throw up so this time, they have me something for nausea and then the Nubane (sp?). Though they claim that it “only takes the edge off”, I was perfectly fine working through each wave of contracting pain. I was quiet and controlled, working to focus on my breathing. I told them that I indeed wanted an epidural but this is my one regret, if I could have changed anything. I asked for it because I had been in pain for weeks and I was certain I would be in labor for a long time. From the time I got into the labor and delivery room until he was born was, honestly, only three hours and twenty one minutes. But we live and learn. The pain mounted but was quelled by modern science. I did, however, think I felt more this time; as if the epidural was less effective.

When it was time to push, the doctor on call – Dr. Dixon – only had to be in there a short time. After one contraction, his head was out. In fact, they had to tell me to stop pushing so he could be siphoned and whatnot, I was such a champion pusher! On the next contraction, Ash literally got to pull our son from my body.

Isaac Samuel was born on Tax Day: April 15th at 1:21 PM. He weighed seven pounds three ounces and measured 19 inches long.

Recovery wasn’t bad but I ran a fever and the first night, I had hot and cold chills the entire time, making feeding him and all very tiring. My family visited a lot and brought stuff but I mostly tried to rest and not get too down.